Connecticut western news., 1887-02-16
"shan't I chop your meat for youp

makin' these piesa l wish't you hadn't chopped the apple. I've got an oven- full rolled out, and now Pll make the inside. Where's the choppin'-tray?"
 "Did your mother have somebody to hand her things, or did she get them herselfa" says good naturedly handing him the tray and choppin' knife.
 He put all his meat, some four or five pounds, into the tray at once, and began to chop. He chopped, and he chopped and he chopped, and still great masses of whole meat kept coming to the sur- face. After three-quartcrs of an hour of hard work he had goti so there wasn't any pieces more than one and half inches square, and two inches thick, though there was plenty that big. Then he went for the molasses jug.
 "You ain't going to call that fine enough for the meat2" says I.
 "Course it's fine enough" says he. Takes the life all out of mince-meat or hash or anything, to chop it too fine !"
 'But Jeremiah," says I, 10th to see so much good meat wasted, "that won't be fit to eat. Let me take it; I'd rather chop than see tho pies spoil ed."
 "spiled!' he cried. "Who's makin' these pies, Philuraa'
 'T wouldn't want to swear that any body was," says I.
 "You always make your pies too sweet" he went on, measuring out sugar by the teaspoonful. ''My mother never used much sugar."
 Then he poured in two teacupfuls of cider molasses and a teacupful of vinegar. He liked them real tart, he said.
 'Now for spices," says he. 'Lemme see. She used to put in lot of ginger, remember. And thereupon the whole two-ounce package was emptied into the pan. 'And cinnamon-ain't we got any cinnamon sticks2"
 Mo-" says l, "you say you don't like it."
 'It's best for pies, I guess, but this will do;" whereupon the package of cin- namon followed the ginger. "Cloves, o, yes! Where's the mortar n pestle ]" And he ground up quarter of a pound of cloves and stirred them in. "Now, that's all but the raisins. O.! no, there's the apple" And he showed in the chopped apple. 70! yes, bread. My mother used to chop up bread and put in."
 ''That was when she was short of apples, remarked.
 "Who's runnin' these pies9' he re- peated. 'Git me some bread, will ye?" brought the bread and he pounded some up and stirred in.
 'Now, I guess it's ready" and he be- gan to ladle it into his under crusts.
 "Ain't you going to taste of it and see whether it is right9" says I. "Your mother used to-"
 ''That's so," says he, "and so did l, and want it good!"
 He smacked his lips and tasted, but I noticed he didn't smack lem tho second time.
 "You ought to set it on fire and cook it all together" couldn't help saying, "Why what's the matter, Jeremiah !"
 The tears was chasing each other down his hollow checks, and f IT minute I was real scairt.
 "There seems to be leetle too much ginger" he said, blowin' his nose, ''but ''rll fix 'em."
 Then he went to work putin in more stuff. A cup more of cider molasses and cup more of vinegar, considerable pepper, but no salt, two pounds of raisins, whole, and the contents of a bottle of paregoric, l see him put in. Then he went to the sittin' room closet and brought the bottle of brandy keep for sickness, and put half of that into the
  mortified, indeed, for I never use it in cooking.
 ''Doctors say mice- pies ought always to hev brandy in lem to keep lem from hurtin' folks" says he; 'I don't begruch a little brandy in such good pies as these"
 Then he stirred up the whole mess. My land! There was great chunks ol meat, and great long strings of it. And such looking pan of mince- meat never see!
 But said nothing as he went on ano filled his pies, and proceeded to cover 'em. The crust had got so haro and stiff he could scarcely roll i out, but he finally got it dowr not much thicker than the unde. crust. Without cutting any air-holes ht covered the pie, tucking in the edg, where it came over, and pulling it ou where it came short. Then his pies wen into the oven.
 He insisted on building up an awfu fire, and in few minutes the juice of hi pies (his meat was floating around in al ambulence of molasses and vinegar) cam running out on the floor. Jeremiah bounded to the oven door. He didn' look near so chipper as when he first be gan his pies.
 'I wish, Philura," says he, "you't jest sec here minute. That crust don act we'll"
 should say not The inside had ri | T ..,., ;r,1 o,,o, oil oro,,~l .--l